


Alone in the Dark

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Whumptober 2019 [31]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abandonment, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Human Cole (Dragon Age), Hurt/Comfort, Spirit Cole (Dragon Age), Whump, Whumptober 2019, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Cole closed his eyes tight, screwed his face up tight enough that it ached beneath the pressure, then opened his eyes wide.No change.The air was almost maddeningly still down in this cell, the faintest eddies caused by movement high up above brushing against his skin, and he craved them more than he could have possibly imagined.
Relationships: Cole & Real Cole (Dragon Age)
Series: Whumptober 2019 [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1502396
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Alone in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!

Cole closed his eyes tight, screwed his face up tight enough that it ached beneath the pressure, then opened his eyes wide.

No change.

The air was almost maddeningly still down in this cell, the faintest eddies caused by movement high up above brushing against his skin, and he craved them more than he could have possibly imagined. 

At times he fancied he could hear movement, somewhere in the depths beyond the bars of his cell, but he knew that couldn’t be true.

No-one came when he screamed. No-one had came when what must have been days passed, down here in the dark, and he was driven to licking the walls, desperate for some small scrap of moisture. No-one came, demon or otherwise.

They thought he was at risk for possession, the same excuse the Templar’s used for everything. The same reason to explain away the beatings and the starvations and this, imprisonment in a small dark cell. 

No demon had whispered in his ear when his sister died in his arms, breath stolen from her lungs in a tiny twisted hiding space while their father prowled like a wounded beast above them. No demons whispered in his ear when he took the small dagger, barely longer than a finger and the edge dull from years of neglect, and cut his father’s throat. No demons whispered to him when the Templar’s looked at him, small and skinny, pale faced and wide eyed, and saw a threat because he put himself between them and a crying child.

Cole was tired. He was so tired. A bone deep exhaustion that sleep didn’t seem to affect in this endless night.

A wave of sorrow welled up in him and Cole pushed himself up, arms trembling, legs weak, and staggered the few steps forward to the bars of his cell. The metal flaked off beneath his palms, the edges of rust biting into his fingers, but he hung on, staring out in the dark.

Cole screamed. 

He couldn’t cry, no tears came despite the prickling behind his eyes.

They had forgotten him down here, and he would die alone in the dark. So he screamed, an animalistic howl that rang in the silence of the dungeon.

Cole fell to his knees, sinking sideways to the cold stone, gasping for breath. His eyes were closed, uncaring.

The first gentle brush of fingers against his cheek were dismissed as a hallucination, his mind finally broken beneath the weight of the darkness surrounding him, nothing more than a faint stirring of air from high above. There had been no footsteps, Templar’s boots heavy against the stone or mage’s shoes, light and barely there as they tried to not be seen. 

“ _ Why are you screaming? _ ”

Cole’s blood turned to ice. His breath caught in his throat and he choked on it, body dissolving in tremors as he coughed and spluttered. 

When it passed, Cole realised he was sitting upright, the metal bars resting uncomfortably against the sharp edges of his spine, skin stretched so thin it was as if it would rip. His eyes were open and he was staring into a face. 

It was featureless, but Cole could tell it was looking at him, backlight by something deep within the spirit. The light burned, left brilliant purple and blue marks when Cole blinked, quickly as if scared the spirit would vanish when he looked away. But it was still there. 

It was close enough to him that he would be able to feel it’s breath on his face if it was breathing. One hand rested on Cole’s arm, the touch feather light but Cole could have wept for the simple fact that he wasn’t alone.

“ _ Why were you screaming? _ ” the spirit asked again. There was no emotion in it’s voice expect a mild curiosity. None of the malice or demands he expected from a demon based on what the other mages whispered about when they thought others were asleep.

“I’m going to die down here alone and forgotten about,” Cole answered, voice barely there from days of disuse.

“ _ Why? _ ”

Cole laughed silently, aware for the first time of the spirit’s touch on his cheek, tracing the path where tears would have rolled down.

“They forgot me,” Cole said, staring into the spirit’s face as if drinking in the light he had long been denied.

“ _ I will stay with you, until the end. You won’t be alone _ .”

“Why?” Cole asked, mind spinning. It was getting harder to think, sleep tugging at him once more. 

“ _ I am Compassion, something you have been denied. I will look after you because you called me. _ ”

Cole tried to speak, but found he couldn’t. He should be scared, grey flickering at the edges of his vision, but found he wasn’t, not anymore. He wasn’t alone any longer. He wouldn’t die alone in the dark, he’d die in the faint light of a spirit.

“Thank you,” Cole managed before the darkness claimed him, spirit keeping watch over him as he died in the dungeon, forgotten about by those above.


End file.
